Father's Day Ramblings
by Hikari-san42
Summary: Dave's alone on Father's Day, and he can't help thinking about how things used to be. He becomes depressed and worried that the boys aren't going to call, but little does he know, they have something special planned. Lot's of cuteness guaranteed!


**Disclaimer: Alvin, Simon, Theodore, and Dave Seville, along with Brittany, Jeanette, and Eleanor Miller belong to Ross Bagdasarian. I'm just borrowing them.**

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_Father's Day Ramblings_

_By Ashley Marie (Chipmunklover)_

Dave sighed as he gazed down at the leather bound book in front of him before flipping the page over. The sight that met him both made him smile and broke his heart.

The man's hair was completely laced with gray, but the original black color was still noticeable – usually shining with a luster. Today though, it was dull and limp, as if it were channeling the man's emotions and making them more obvious.

On the protected page in front of him were glossy, still images of what was; colorful snapshots of how things used to be. His eyes studied each picture in the huge book with such determination, that one could believe he was attempting to see through the album.

Dave smiled as his eyes locked on a picture of his youngest son, Theodore, grinning and holding up a crayon scribbled drawing, eyes glowing in pride at the stick figures. The man could almost make out the words the then eight year old had written: _Happy Father's Day! I love you!_ Dave had the words and the drawing memorized, having kept the notebook paper gift folded on his dresser where he could always find it.

After examining the rest of the pictures on the page – Alvin on his skateboard and Simon asleep, using a book as a pillow – the man pushed himself away from the table and toward the coffee maker.

As he made his way across the kitchen, Dave couldn't help but glance at the calendar. The month was June, but as he gazed at that picture donned thing, he couldn't make out the day… Every time he glanced toward the twenties, his mind stopped him on a Sunday. He knew that his brain was trying to explain that today _was_ that Sunday, but he wouldn't let himself believe it.

Especially after seeing how it was labeled.

The graying haired man shook his head and continued on his way to the coffee my, intending on getting two cups.

After achieving his goal, Dave spun around and came face-to-face with the calendar again. His green eyes immediately found the day and he couldn't stop his mind from reading the words.

Father's Day

He'd been dreading this day since the month had started. Dave had known that it would go unnoticed by his sons, who had since moved off to college and bigger things, so why did it hurt him so much to have confirmation?

The man hadn't received one gift and only one of the boys – Alvin – had bothered to acknowledge the day. The short text message Dave had received from the boy (Happy Father's Day!) had barely cut it, but since neither of the other two had tried to contact him, he knew it would have to be enough.

After graduating high school, all three boys had scattered across he country to different colleges. Theodore was the closest, studying in San Francisco, but was still hours away. Slowly, as two years had dragged on, Dave had felt a rift grow between him and the three. He knew that the brothers themselves were as close as they always had been, staying in constant communication through the computer and cell phone. But Dave himself had lost touch with everyone but Theodore.

Sure, the triplets came down on holidays and during the summer; Dave enjoyed every minute of these visits, but they didn't last long enough for his liking.

Sometimes, he wished for the small toddlers he had adopted or the three foot tall nine year olds that got into so much trouble he lost his voice yelling at them. He missed seeing Simon at the computer, Alvin playing basketball, the Nintendo, or the piano, and Theodore drawing or helping him in the kitchen.

Ever since they had left, things had gotten quiet; sometimes too quiet for Dave's liking. He hated the way he could hear his footsteps echo around the huge house without the sound of a video game to block them out. He despised that every time he passed by the room the boys used to share, he had to take a peek inside to make sure it was exactly how they had left it. He loathed how-

Dave's thoughts were cut off by the sound of the phone trilling. The man shook his head to clear away the unfinished thought and heaved himself away from the table.

"Hello, Dave Seville speaking, may I ask who's-" Dave was cut off as three fairly high pitched voices echoed from the speaker and he had to pull the phone away from his ear in an effort to save his eardrum.

"HAPPY FATHER'S DAY, DAVE!!" The voices were distinctly female and Dave couldn't stop the smile that wormed its way onto his face.

He had been expecting this particular group of girls to call him all day. The Chipettes might have not been the children he had raised, but Dave knew he had filled the father figure role for them. He was, after all, the only adult male they had ever been close too, and he enjoyed watching them grow up as much as his own boys. Right now, the three girls were enjoying the high life in Las Vegas. They had been given their own show, and they performed to full houses almost every night.

"Thank you girls; it's nice to know that you still care." Dave answered truthfully, without a trace of sarcasm in his tone. Across the line, the callers looked at each other in confusion.

"What'cha mean, Dave?" One of the voices, probably belonging to Brittany, asked, suspicion coloring her tone.

Dave sighed, "Nothing. It's nothing. Don't worry about it."

"The boys forgot again, didn't they?" This voice was higher still and Dave immediately matched it with Eleanor.

Dave smiled, "I don't know, girls. It's only just past lunch time. They just might be running behind."

"Whatever you say, Dave," this time, Jeanette spoke, "just remember that we'll be coming down next week on vacation. We're looking forward to seeing you."

"Me too," Dave answered. "I'll see you girls then."

"Sure thing, Dave! Happy Father's Day!" All three girls spoke in unison and as soon as they finished the phone clicked off.

Dave took his time turning off the phone and hanging it back up. Suddenly, he felt exhausted, as if that phone call had worn him out physically and mentally.

With one fleeting look toward the kitchen and his book filled with memories, he started for the stairs, intending to take a nice long nap.

--

"He's still at the house, Alvin."

Outside, a few blocks away, a young adult, no more than twenty, sat at the wheel of his car with a cell phone pressed to his ear. The smile that graced his features could only be described as devilish as he turned the car on and started forward, answering the person as he went.

"Thanks Britt, I owe you one."

"More than one, Seville; just remember that I'll be seeing you next week." The female voice on the other end held a teasing note and the male couldn't help but smile.

"So you've been telling me. Tell your sisters I said hi."

"Of course." The phone clicked off without a formal goodbye, and the red clad boy at the wheel folded his phone before setting it down on the dash. "He's still there," he remarked to the other occupants in the car, and both of the other males, with almost identical features – save for their eye colors – nodded.

--

When Dave woke, the clock declared to him that it was 3:35 in the afternoon and he mentally cursed himself for sleeping so long. What if he had missed a call from his boys?

A quick check to both the phone hanging on the wall in the hallway and his cell phone showed him that his worries were for not. He hadn't received one call since the Chipettes' three hours ago.

With a sigh, he quickly ran a comb through his thinning hair and checked his face over in the mirror. He was ageing well; the only signs of his approaching "old" status were his thinning and graying hair. Other than that, he still looked about thirty.

Of course, he could chalk his hair up to his oldest son, Alvin. That boy had given him so many almost-heart attacks, he was surprised the thing was still beating in his chest. Of course, he had gotten his fair share of scares from the other two, but Alvin was by far the most troublesome.

Dave sighed again before sitting down on his bed with a huff. It wasn't like the boys to forget Father's Day for this long. All three would've usually called by now, or visited if they'd been in town.

The man shook his head, remembering all the Father's Days past. He could list off every present they had given him, from crayon drawings to golf clubs and soap-on-a-rope.

Theodore almost always had a drawn card for him, no matter how old he had gotten, and – over the years – he had gotten better and better at his drawings. His talent had started to blossom in high school, when regular art classes were offered. Now, he could whip out a drawing of almost anything in about thirty minutes if the need hit him.

Alvin had strayed more toward the music classes, opting to take band in sixth through eight grades on the xylophone/bells because of their closeness to the piano, and orchestra through high school, playing piano. He had always been an excellent piano player, picking it up almost instantly like some music prodigy. And he liked to expand to other instruments, but he always came back to the first one Dave had ever taught him. Needless to say, the orchestra teacher was ecstatic to have the famous Alvin Seville playing the piano.

Simon, while musically minded like both of his brothers, decided that newspaper and library aid were the classes for him. He was an excellent writer, able to write over 3,000 words in an hour on a good day; he also knew the library like the back of his hand and spent more time reading than shelving books.

Dave had been happy with the different interests his boys showed. Of course, Alvin had also been involved in sports, with Simon going out for tennis or golf depending on his mood; Theodore had also enjoyed the home economics class, cooking things on a daily basis.

Life with those three around had been hectic. There was always a soccer game, science fair, or art show for him to show up at – sometimes all scheduled on the same night in the same time slot. He'd had to learn the art of juggling and was pretty sure that he'd had it down pat by the time all three had graduated.

Of course he-

Dave's ramblings were interrupted as a crash sounded from downstairs. Without thinking, he was up and across the room, grabbing the baseball bat he had stored in the corner for instances such as these. The only word running through his head as his mind jumped to conclusions was _burglar_.

911 totally forgotten, Dave started down the stairs, his steps padded by his socks. He made sure to step past the squeaky stair and avoid the loose boards that would announce his presence to whoever was down there.

As he got to the bottom, his eyes first landed on the broken vase in front of the door. Water was splashed everywhere and the flowers were stacked in the middle of the wrecked glass, as if the centerpiece of destruction. The front door was wide open, a key still in the lock, but he didn't give that a second thought, because he always stored his extra under the mat.

_I need to move that_. He thought to himself as he turned first toward the living room. After a thorough search under all the couch cushions and behind all the drapes, Dave was satisfied that the intruder wasn't there and he started to make his way across the foyer toward the kitchen.

There was a sound of movement coming from that direction and he froze and let his ears pick it up. He couldn't tell how many people were in there, looting his cupboards, but he was sure it was more than one.

The man took a deep breath, preparing himself for what he was going to do, and primed his bat. Without a second thought, he threw himself into the kitchen with a savage battle cry that sounded suspiciously like a chicken calling for a mate.

"Whoa! Dave!" The voice was high pitched, and the person it belonged to was about a foot shorter than Dave. Dave froze as the sound echoed around the kitchen and he looked downward.

"I didn't know that breaking the vase would make you go savage! I'll replace it! Just don't brain me!" The bat dropped out of Dave's hands and landed behind him with a clatter that seemed to be muffled by the sound of Dave's mind processing everything around him.

All three of his sons were standing in front of him in different parts of the kitchen. Theodore was standing on his tip-toes, attempting to reach the plates set in the cupboard. Simon was right behind him, rooting in the silverware drawer. And, Alvin was hunched over in front of Dave with his hands above his head in protection from Dave's attack.

When the boy sensed no immediate danger, he lowered his hands slowly and broke out into a smile very similar to the ones he had cracked back when he was smaller. "Happy Father's Day…?" He couldn't help but wince as his voice rose at the end and showed his uncertainty at the statement.

"Alvin?" Dave was speechless. All three boys were here? But, what about school?

"Yes, Dave, it's me." Alvin crossed his arms and cocked an eyebrow, a pose he had perfected over the last twenty years. "Please don't go into the "you shouldn't barge into people's homes without knocking" rant. We knocked… and stood outside for fifteen minutes before letting ourselves in. It's our house too."

Suddenly, the reality of what was happening crashed down on Dave and his eyes widened while his mouth stretched out into a smile. "You're really here!" His voice yelled loudly and he couldn't help up scoop the boy up in a hug.

Alvin grunted and looked sideways towards his brothers, as if asking for help. Both shrugged simultaneously, signaling that Alvin was on his own.

Dave placed Alvin back on the floor and examined the boy. None of his sons had broken five feet when they hit puberty, and had stayed in the stair-steps they had always been, each shooting up maybe three to four inches. This had peeved Alvin to no end as everyone else around him grew up to six feet while he was destined to be four foot six. None of their voices had cracked or dropped either. They stayed at the same high pitches as always, which suited them just fine, considering that their high pitched voices had made them famous when they had been younger.

The boys hadn't changed much over the years really, except for growing a little. They still stuck to the same old sweaters they always wore, except now with jeans and different shoes. Of course, they had other clothes, but Dave knew they preferred the comfortable reminders of their youth.

In fact, they were dressed in those now, Dave noticed as he noted the huge yellow "A" on Alvin's chest. His signature hat was missing, but Dave could see it out of the corner of his eye sitting on the table, not far away from its owner.

"What're you doing here?!" Dave couldn't help but ask as he looked each of his boys, "A phone call was all I expected!"

"We wanted to surprise you, mainly because we couldn't come last year." Simon came up next, his voice the lowest out of three, but still with that obvious squeak. "Happy Father's Day." Dave scooped him up in a hug next, ignoring the huge gust of air that exited the young man as he squeezed tightly.

Theodore came up next. He barely broke four feet, being the shortest of the three, and Dave knew that he was still the sweetheart he had been when he was young. "Hi, Dave!" He exclaimed happily, "Are you surprised?!"

Dave rolled his eyes. "Of course!" He answered, grabbing the boy up into his hug. "You guys scared me half to death when that vase broke."

Almost automatically, Theodore and Simon pointed at Alvin while the red suited boy shot both arms outward with an accusatory finger pointed at each of his younger brothers.

"I didn't do it!" Came the inevitable response when Alvin noticed that he'd been ratted out. "You guys suck…" He mumbled the last part under his breath, but Dave decided to ignore it. The man was shaking with laughter at the exchange; it represented old times so well.

"Dave!" Alvin suddenly yelled out, seeing his adoptive father open his mouth to scold him for the vase. (In reality, Dave was going to tell him to forget about the vase; he hated it anyway.) "Do you want cake?!"

Dave clamped his mouth shut and he shot Simon and Theodore a sideways glanced. Both were shaking their heads at their brother's immature behavior, and rolled their eyes. Dave nodded in response to Alvin's question, seeing that the boy was looking at him expectantly.

"Awesome!" Alvin was bursting with energy and he raced across the kitchen to grab the obviously Theodore-made pastry. "Teddy made it, so you know it's gonna be good!" He held the cake between both hands, but suddenly and unexpectedly, he tripped over what Dave guessed were his own feet and went face first into the cake.

Simon didn't waste a second to burst out in laughter, falling over as his giggles became overwhelming when Alvin raised his head to glare at him. Theodore took a few seconds to mourn the death of his cake before succumbing like Simon. He had lost many a cake to Alvin through his life, what was one more?

Dave managed to hold is laughter in until Alvin scrambled to his feet and licked his fingers off, ignoring the cake all over his face and chest. "Man, that _is_ good!"

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**Gasp! Ashes _isn't_ dead?! *brick'd***

**Yay for little oneshots that really make no sense!! This thing just popped into my head, so I decided to type it out for all you lovely people as a sign that I'm not, in fact, deceased! **

**With that said, it was actually planned out better in my head, and I really hope I paced everything slow enough for you to get the gist of what's going on. **

**This is mainly me expressing my grief over my cousin going away to college. He and I are really close and he's LEAVING ME!!! **

***sobs* Anyway, hope you enjoyed reading and understood it. I didn't proof read it, so there's probably typos and crap. Tell me in a review and I'll fix it if it bothers you; yes, I'm being cheap and making you be my proofers. **

**REVIEW! **


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